Through the Gyroscope
by clicketykeys
Summary: Through the opportunity to test out a prototype fantasy-immersion device, the author finds herself pulled into the world of SWTOR. But when you're in a game, it's important to play by the rules... (M for language only.) Chapter 4: "Heroes and Villains" - TOUCHDOWN. Welcome to Ord Mantell, folks. Keep your blasters handy and don't forget to lock your ship up good and tight! ;D
1. UnReality

**Chapter 1 - UnReality**

My first thought, when I woke up in what I immediately recognized as a hospital, was _Crap. This is going to cost a bundle._ I looked around, blinking a bit, and noticed that I wasn't hooked up to any equipment, not even an IV. As my brain finally shifted into first gear, I realized that I wasn't entirely sure why I was there. I hadn't been injured. I hadn't gotten sick – at least, I didn't remember being rushed to the hospital or even feeling ill.

And I was starting to notice details that seemed out of place. The room I was in was clearly designed for a single patient, and I don't have that kind of money. Moreover, there were no windows, and the equipment pushed back against the walls indicated that this wasn't a recovery room.

I sat up gingerly. Since I wasn't entirely sure what had gotten me here, I wanted to treat my body carefully. I reached down to pull the blankets back and _holy fuck my hands are green._ For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I had no idea what kind of disease would turn my skin green. Not zombie-green – at least, as far as I could tell, given that I didn't actually know any zombies. It was deeper and more vivid, almost leafy.

A moment later, everything clicked.

* * *

I remembered the email I'd gotten from DisneyQuest about a month ago, identifying me as a potential prizewinner. I hadn't recalled entering anything, so I waited until the next day at work and then called from a telephone there while I was on my lunch break. I mean, duh, I wasn't about to give my number to some scammer.

It had gone straight to voicemail – _that figures_, I thought. But the message started out, "Hi, this is Dave at Blue Sky." There was more to it than that but I really didn't register anything other than **BLUE SKY**. Did I actually have the direct phone number of a Disney Imagineer?

My heart raced. This had to be a scam. It had to be. But I left my name and my work number and hung up and sat there numbly until the phone rang again not a minute later.

That conversation is mostly a blur in my memory, but it did eventually sink in that Disney was developing a fully-immersive "fantasy entertainment experience" and that they were inviting a small group of people to a weekend test of the prototype. I think I said yes before he finished the first sentence. Also, there might have been a little bit of squealing involved.

Okay, maybe a lot of squealing.

Dave was really awesome and gave me the basics. I'd have to get there on my own, but they'd give me a room at the new animation resort and a two-day Parkhopper pass as compensation for my feedback on the prototype. Two days at Disney World for only the cost of transportation and food? Hell yes, and transfer me to Dining Reservations ASAP!

He told me that I'd be getting some paperwork in the mail and to be sure to send the originals back Registered. They wouldn't accept photocopies or faxes. And he gave me another number to call if I had any questions, or if I didn't get the papers within the next two days.

Disney does not mess around one little bit with its legal stuff, folks. That became even more apparent the next afternoon and opened my mailbox. I pulled out an enormous plastic envelope and ripped it open without even waiting to get inside. Honest to goodness, that stack of papers could have put the phone book to shame! I think the non-disclosure agreement required me to forfeit my firstborn child, my soul, and my neocortex if I ever said anything to anyone. Also there might have been something about polyps. (You know, these guys – bogleech images / polyp4 . jpg )

So of course I got a pen from the car, signed at every little red X, then drove to the post office and filled out the Registered Mail form and sent it back.

The next month passed incredibly slowly, even though the days were full of activity. I arranged for a day off work the Friday I was scheduled to get to Orlando. I made my travel plans. I packed. I changed my mind about what I wanted to take. I unpacked and re-packed.

Finally, I left.

There is no feeling in the world quite like passing under the arch that says WALT DISNEY World. I checked in and debated taking my bag to my room and resting for awhile, but what was the sense in being sensible?! So I left my bag with bell services and went right over to the concierge and showed her the information I'd gotten after I'd sent in my legal packet. She did something-or-other on her computer, took my cell number, and told me that they'd be sending a car for me and it would be here in just a few minutes.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later a silvery-blue sedan pulled up and a woman with dark hair popped out and waved to me. I got in and she introduced herself as Jamie. While we headed wherever it was we were going, she reviewed the procedure with me: I was wearing comfortable clothes and lace-up shoes, as they'd requested. I would need to empty my pockets and leave all items in a locker. No photography under any circumstances. All medical issues had been appropriately documented.

By the time we turned onto an unmarked lane and pulled up to a nondescript building, I was a bundle of nerves. But I got through the security check without any issues, and soon Jamie led me down a quiet hallway decorated with animation cels and concept art to a plain wooden door. She pressed her company ID card against the wall by the door, and it swung open.

"I'll see you when you're done!" Jamie said, and I stepped through the doorway.

* * *

[AN: For the record, haha, I have NO idea how Blue Sky works. So all of that is made up. There are people who work at Disney called Imagineers, and some of them do design park attractions. This, however, is entirely a work of fiction… though it WOULD be awfully nice to see TOR developed into a full-immersion game! Also, I realize that there's not a lot of TOR in here yet - you're just going to have to keep reading, I guess! ;D

As always, reviews welcomed and encouraged!]


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Chapter 2 - Down the Rabbit Hole  
**

* * *

The first thing I noticed was that the walls in here were not the same bland off-white as the walls out in the hallway, the same sort of nondescript beige you see in every office ever. These were a darker grey with a hint of blue, the tone and color emphasized by recessed lighting along the edges of the ceiling. It gave the room an almost hypnotic feel, like it was naptime. But in less time than it took for that to actually register, I saw something far, far more interesting.

In the center of the room was a huge black metal contraption, gleaming despite the low light. It was an enormous gyroscope, easily large enough to hold a person inside. And immediately, I knew that whatever this ride was supposed to be, it was going to be awesome.

I walked toward it slowly – curiosity, excitement, and nervousness all mingling in my gut, in a kind of high-octane emotional soup. There was a treadmill at the base, and crossbars that bent around an open area in the middle, shiny black carabiners dangling at regular intervals. The entire contraption was threaded with what must have been thousands of tiny wires, and when I looked closer, I could see that by each clip dangled a pair of leads.

The door opened behind me, and I turned, almost instinctively placing my hands behind my back. A man and a woman walked in, both dressed in a sort of professional-casual gear with just the faintest edge to it, hip but nonthreatening. _When it comes to Disney, nothing is left to chance_, I realized.

The man approached me briskly, holding out his hand. I shook it. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said. "I'm Dave; we spoke on the phone?" I nodded and introduced myself to him and shook the woman's hand as well. "This is Kiara, one of the other Imagineers on the project. She'll be getting you geared up."

We exchanged hellos, and Kiara walked over to another corner of the room, opening a door I hadn't noticed. I was curious about what she was doing, but Dave had asked me if I liked Star Wars, and so we nerded out about that for a little while. He then explained that since Disney was 'partnered with' LucasArts, they were working on a number of properties, and this was one of them. "It's a re-imagining of an online Star Wars computer game created by Bioware," he explained.

"The Old Republic," I responded with a nod.

"Exactly," Dave said, and I found myself wondering just how much he knew about my interest in the game and my activity in the fandom. He went on to explain that through the use of the gyroscope and an interactive response suit, the player would be fully inserted into the world of the game.

Kiara had returned with what appeared to be a duvet tucked under one arm and a mass of straps and silver rings in the other. She and Dave helped me get latched into the strappy-thing, which was a harness – the carabiners on the gyroscope would latch onto the silver rings and help control my movements. Next I pulled on a thin white pair of gloves. I could just barely feel the wires running through the material; Kiara said they would respond both to my movement and the game world, and provide sensory feedback.

The quilted jumpsuit (including booties!) acted in much the same way. There were button-holes where we pulled the various rings through. Finally, we smoothed my hair back and I pulled a thin white hood over my head. It was the same material as the gloves, and had a single opening on the front for my eyes. At first I felt a bit stifled, having something over my nose and mouth, but I soon realized I had no difficulty breathing or talking, and I began to relax.

Kiara helped me walk over to the gyroscope and step up onto the treadmill. I kept my hands on the frame for balance while she clipped the carabiners onto the metal rings that protruded from my jumpsuit. She stepped away, and began operating a few controls at the side of the gyroscope. I could feel the harness straps being pulled tight, but I still had complete freedom of movement, as they'd said.

Dave had me practice a few basic gestures and moves – walking, running, jumping, reaching, turning, all in various ways and combinations. The gear might have made it difficult, but the sensors picked up on my body's responses and the gyroscope augmented each motion. The treadmill had some flex to it as well, and in a few minutes, I could even do a full cartwheel. Interestingly enough, the cage moved with me, so that the treadmill was always below my feet, but my gloves stiffened and pushed in a way that made it feel like my hands were actually pushing off the ground as my feet flew overhead. Kiara explained that once I put on the goggles and the helmet (safety first, of course) it would complete the illusion, and I would quickly become used to interacting with what I sensed and saw through the machine.

By now I couldn't help grinning broadly. I told them I was ready, and Dave brought over the goggles and the helmet and helped me secure them – my fingers in the gloves made the last few latches a bit challenging. He asked again if I was ready, and I nodded. A moment later, the room around me slowly darkened, until I couldn't see anything at all. I knew, however, that it was actually the goggles, and that he and Kiara were watching me closely.

"Welcome to your fantasy immersion experience," said a new voice. It was female-ish and impersonal but still somehow familiar. GladOS? HAL? Almost – no, it was Victoria, from my old text-to-speech program! "To assist you in transitioning between scenes, your audio, visual, and motor response unit will reduce tension and provide signals that will encourage your mind to relax. Beginning transition now." The voice went silent, and the pull at my harness seemed to loosen a bit. It felt like I was floating. I tilted my toes down and thought I could still feel the treadmill below my feet, but the booties made it hard to tell.

"Please count back from one hundred," said Victoria.

I waited for awhile, but nothing happened. Finally I let out a sigh. _All right, all right._ Was I supposed to say it out loud? I felt kind of silly, but I figured it couldn't hurt. "One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight. Ninety-seven. Ninety-six." I continued counting, feeling myself relax into the comfort of the pattern.

It was still a bit disorienting when I blinked, and found myself lying down. There was a pillow under my head, and blankets wrapped around me, but I wasn't in my room. I knew I'd been having an incredibly vivid dream, but in my groggy, sleep-addled state I couldn't quite get it to cohere.

I looked around, trying to make sense of things. White blankets. White sheets. White lights… _crap, this is going to cost a bundle_. No… no, wait, I didn't remember going to the hospital.

When I went to pull the blankets back and saw my hands, I had a moment of panic before memories suddenly rushed back and I let out a sigh of relief. Victoria had actually taken me through a brief simulation, followed by the process of selecting a character. I'd chosen a smuggler, naturally, and even gone with a Mirialan, like Vacy. Only by this point I'd written enough about her that it felt kind of weird to pretend to be her, like she was her own person or something. So I'd chosen the name Aurielle. Maybe it was a little fancier than made sense for a smuggler, but it was pretty and feminine, and I kind of liked it. Also it was the first thing that had popped into my mind, and I really didn't want to waste any of my time agonizing over character creation. I mean, I could be living in TOR!

In fairness, the developers had greatly increased the complexity of the appearance generator, and it was actually kind of tempting to stay there and muck around with it a bit, but I was anxious to get started. I chose a deep green skin tone and tattoos around the eyebrows, pale blue eyes – icy, perhaps; maybe I'd make Aurielle a bit of a badass – and a body type that mimicked mine. Well, mostly. Bigger boobs, smaller waist, because, hell, why not?!

The more I remembered, the more my heart raced. After character creation, everything had gone dark again, followed by the iconic title screen and music and scrolling text. I was briefly glad I'd used the bathroom back at the resort, before Jamie had picked me up, because I swear I would have wet myself, I was that excited. I had told Dave that I'd played the MMO, and so he'd told me he was loading the original smuggler storyline.

That was part of why I was confused. This wasn't the opening I was expecting – wasn't I supposed to land on Ord Mantell first? Dave had said they'd worked on different storylines and updated the character AIs, but I was expecting to be either on my ship or in Viidu's warehouse. What was going on?

Footsteps approached outside the doorway. I turned to look just as someone entered, and I froze as I recognized who it was.

"Hello, there," said Rogun the Butcher.

* * *

[AN: And so it comes full circle! I hope you enjoyed the frame story, and that it wasn't too tech-y or ridiculous. I'll go ahead and admit right now that the only research I did was checking the spelling of 'carabiner' - Google says I've got it right, but Firefox is underlining it here on the Edit Document window so I'm not sure. :P

If you notice anything that needs to be fixed, PLEASE let me know. As always, reviews welcomed and encouraged!]


	3. Impossible Things

**Chapter 3 - Impossible Things  
**

* * *

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. This isn't supposed to happen! Dammit, Dave, what the hell is going on here?_

"Hi…" I replied carefully, standing up the rest of the way. I mean, it was entirely possible that I was wrong. Chagrians weren't particularly common, but then perhaps that would be why I might mistake one for another. Maybe Dave had loaded a different story entirely, and this was going to be my first crew member. Maybe it was even someone related to Rogun, and there was some kind of cross-story involved! _That would be kind of cool_, I mused.

He walked slowly over to me, and I found myself looking up at him as he smiled thinly down at me. _Dammit! I made her as tall as it would let me. I hate feeling short. _I attempted a smile in reply.

That seemed to intrigue him, and he tilted his head in what I assumed was a gesture of respect. "I am Rogun Matt'rik," he purred in the precisely-enunciated manner that added an unstated-but-implied _And no one fucks with me, ever_. "Perhaps you've heard of me?" he added.

I gulped. _Right, then. I'm screwed._ But somehow I managed to hold his gaze. "Uh, sure," I hedged. "Everybody's heard of you."

He chuckled, the sound deep and predatory. "Well, then, I expect you know my nickname. And I also expect you're wondering why you're here."

Even though I didn't have any options to choose from directly, I recognized a dialogue prompt when I heard one. "Yeah," I replied, putting my hands on my hips. "Not that I object to the, ah, pleasure of your company, Mister Matt'rik, but I must admit to a being a bit curious."

He glanced over my posture thoughtfully; I'm sure he recognized the assertive attitude for the bluff it was. Still, I wasn't about to grovel or anything. I mean, c'mon. This is a game, right? And hey, I'm the protagonist. Yeah, I may be some level-one nobody at this point, but I'm the STAR. This is _my_ story, assmunch.

I felt my spine tensing, my shoulders drawing back a bit as confidence crept slowly through me. My jaw tightened, my lips pulling back into a smirk. And when his eyes met mine again, perhaps I was imagining it, but I'd swear I saw a dawning respect in his gaze.

"I find myself in need of a pilot," he explained. "I only hire the best, and it seems that would be you. However, I discovered that you had been indefinitely detained by a former employer and would be spending at least a few decades as a wall hanging in her throne room. This did not suit me at all, and so I paid a scandalously exorbitant sum to assuage her pride and secure your services for myself."

"Secure my… wait, you _bought _me?" I spat out. "And you think I'm going to work for you after that?"

Rogun lifted a shoulder carelessly. "You could choose to say that I rescued you," he pointed out. "You were encased in carbonite, after all. But make no mistake about it: you do work for me now."

Rage simmered in the pit of my stomach. "Like hell I do," I snarled back. "I'm a freelancer. I pick my own jobs. I work for _me_."

He took one last step toward me and leaned in, his nose barely an inch from mine. "Not anymore," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Be very, _very_ careful, little girl. You're playing a dangerous game right now, and you don't even understand the rules. Choose your actions carefully. It would be a terrible shame if things ended before they even had a chance to begin." He stood fully again and walked over to the doorway. "Besides," he added. "I hear the weather is lovely on Ord Mantell."

That last remark was enough to give me all the context I needed. This version of the game apparently shifted the storyline I was familiar with a little bit, which kind of made sense, given the decision not to have – as far as I could tell – any sort of obvious interface with the game itself. Apparently this scene with Rogun was part of the prologue and designed to familiarize the player with the game.

_Great. This is the guy who's giving me my first assignment, the one that starts the story… and I've just mouthed off to him, _I thought as I hurried out after him. _Oh well, at least he didn't shoot me._

_Not yet, anyway._

I caught up to him a few paces down the hallway. "Ord Mantell? Sounds lovely, but how'm I supposed to get there? A pilot's not much use without a ship. Besides, isn't it just some rinkydink little planet that's got itself into a civil war? Sounds like small potatoes for someone like you."

"How I conduct my business is none of yours," Rogun replied smoothly. "There's a shipment waiting for you at a company called Rendia Freight. They'll load it, and you'll take it to a warehouse of mine on another planet. The coordinates will be sent to you when you leave Ord Mantell."

_So I don't actually _have_ the blasters yet,_ I mused. _Okay. Interesting turn of events. That means that if Skavak steals them from Viidu, the smuggler wouldn't have to worry about Rogun. And _that_ means there's some other twist that keeps the player character embroiled in the situation. Hmh. Intriguing. _I folded my arms over my chest and arched a brow. "Yes, well, we've still got a problem." I pointed my thumb at myself. "Pilot." Then shrugged. "Ship?"

There wasn't the faintest hint of a smile from Rogun. I hoped he wasn't getting annoyed at me. I hadn't played the agent extensively, but I'd leveled mine up enough to learn that smarting off actually did have serious consequences once in awhile. Then again, Rogun wasn't a Dark Lord or anything… just a practically-minded criminal kingpin who committed mass murder on principle.

Without replying, he turned and walked through a doorway. I followed, and couldn't help an enormous grin. There it was – my beloved XS! Sure, it was just a stock freighter, but I'd played my smuggler so much that seeing it in person was almost unbelievable. I wanted to go over and hug one of the struts, but somehow I managed to restrain myself.

I quickly arranged my features into disdain. "This? This is what I've got to work with? I thought you had money."

Rogun's jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed. "She may not look like much, Captain, but she's got it where it counts."

Excitement fluttered in my chest – not just from the obvious shout-out, either. _Captain_. That was _me!_ For the first time I truly felt like I was part of the Star Wars universe.

He walked me onto the ship and pointed out the various facilities. I kept my hands folded behind my back to keep from touching absolutely everything. We finally reached the purpose of the entire journey – the bridge. Even though the viewport showed nothing more interesting than the hangar, I felt my breath catch in my throat. I had to remind myself that it wasn't actually real.

The panels were all labeled in Aurebesh – _down to the last detail; damn!_ – but there was a translation in English under each one. Rogun gave me an overview of the controls and readouts. Presumably a pilot good enough to go by the callsign 'Ace' should already know the difference between the repulsors and the hyperdrive (and hadn't Rogun said I was 'the best'?) but as flying the ship was looking like it was going to be very different from the MMO, I kept my mouth shut.

"One last thing," Rogun said as he turned to go. He reached into his vest and pulled out a simple, well-worn blaster. "Ord Mantell is in the middle of a civil war. Take this; you may need it."

"Yeah, well, never look a gift blaster in the barrel, I guess," I said, not bothering to hide my disdain for the cheap weapon. _Note to self: level up quickly. Flashy's waiting!_ I tucked the blaster in an empty holster at my side. "Thanks," I said, attempting to give it at least a veneer of sincerity.

He smirked. "You can thank me by getting those blasters and delivering them in a timely fashion, Captain." With that, he headed down the hallway.

"Good luck, Captain," I said, mimicking his precise mannerisms. "May the Force be with you." The airlock slammed shut, and I scowled. "Asshole," I muttered.

"Welcome, Pilot," came the smooth, female tones I remembered from the simulation. "Please take your seat in the captain's chair, and fasten your safety harness."

"Hey, Victoria!" I said cheerfully. It didn't make much sense to buckle in – after all, I wasn't really in a spaceship – but I decided to play along. Intriguingly, I really felt like I was sitting down. "How've you been?"

"Quite well, thank you. Please take control of the lever for the ship's repulsors." I did, and as soon as my fingers wrapped around the lever, she continued, "Gently press the lever forward."

As soon as I moved the lever the slightest bit there was a heavy _thump_, and then, ever so softly, the ship lifted off the ground.

Victoria guided me through the process of retracting the landing struts and carefully maneuvering out of the hangar. There was an open field nearby, and I practiced turns and lifts, first with repulsors, then with the sublight engines. _Oh my fucking stars. I am flying a goddamn **spaceship**_.

But the excitement that thrilled through me in that moment was nothing compared to what was coming later.

* * *

[AN: Here we go - a little bit more about the world, and about the way that this new game is slightly different from the MMO that Aurielle's player is familiar with. How much can she rely on what she already knows?

And as always, reviews welcomed and encouraged!]


	4. Heroes and Villains

**Chapter 4 – Heroes and Villains**

[AN: Laryn, I'm dedicating this chapter to you, since you said the last chapter of BLP was too short. *impish grin* Hope you enjoy this one - I think it may be the longest single chapter I've EVER posted!]

* * *

Space: the Final Frontier.

Okay, so _totally_ the wrong fandom, but I couldn't help it – the words just resonate. I don't think it's because of the words themselves, because it's not the _space_ that's interesting, it's all the _things_ that are out there _in_ the space that are. I think it's more the _way_ they're said – awe and reverence and hope and excitement, all the things that prickled my skin as the _Nothing Succeeds Like XS_ roared up through the atmosphere and out into the darkness beyond.

By this point I could tell that I'd fully integrated into the game world physically. If I concentrated on disengaging and reached my arms out as far as I could, or stretched my fingers and wiggled them, I could still faintly feel the restraints that supported my body in the testing room. But when I looked around me or placed my hand on an object that my eyes told me was sitting right there, it felt like I really was touching something that had real, physical substance.

There was a galaxy map on the bridge, like there had been in-game, and it worked similarly, though the Imagineers had also included the 'pinch' and 'stretch' movements that most people would be familiar with from touchscreen devices. I also found out, somewhat by accident, that voice commands worked as well. I'd said to Victoria that we were going to Ord Mantell, and she replied, "Course selected. State 'confirm' to set." I hesitated for like half a second, then cleared my throat and said, "CONFIRM," making sure to enunciate precisely and give it a bit of oomph.

Patrick Stewart, eat your heart out.

We dropped out of hyperspace in-system, and it was easy to pick out Ord Mantell, what with the small flashes of light from the laser cannons. As I flew the _XS_ nearer, there was a crackle of static, and I heard a voice say, "Unidentified freighter, please give your destination and purpose."

A green light was blinking on my dash. There was a button next to it, and when I pushed it, I heard the speakers squawk a little. "This is the _Nothing Succeeds Like XS_, and I'm heading to Rendia Freight to pick up some cargo. Might grab something to eat at the cantina over at Fort Garnik."

I let go of the button and there was another squawk, and a moment or so later, a hiss, just before the same voice replied, "There's a local insurgency, and they've got a few cannons and some merc fighter ships trying to create a blockade. We'll give you all the support we can, but you should add power to your shields before you try to run it."

Grinning, I punched the button again. "Well aren't you just a thoughtful fellow. If you're planetside sometime soon, I might have to buy you a drink," I replied with a chuckle, rolling my eyes even as the offer left my lips. I hadn't _meant_ to make any kind of invitation! It just kind of … flirted itself, somehow. I shook my head with a sigh. "I appreciate the help." I let go of the button and increased power to the shields, as he'd suggested, and then pushed the yoke forward, feeling the answering surge from the sublights.

There was a hiss and a bit of a laugh through my speakers. "You take care of yourself, ma'am." He didn't say more than that, and I must admit to being a bit miffed. Not that I'd meant anything by it anyway, but darnit, he was supposed to be wiled by my irresistible feminine charms! What kind of spacer was I, anyhow?

But, then, perhaps there'd been other folks around, and he probably wasn't supposed to be flirting while on duty. _Meh, who knows?_ I grinned as the _XS _zipped into the fray, a prickle of adrenaline humming through me.

Within seconds, I was in the middle of everything. Since this was a blockade run, I decided not to worry about firing back, and focused on avoiding the shots that were directed at me. Victoria kept me informed about fighters beside or behind me, and there were several holo-displays I could peek at that showed various angles around the ship. It really wasn't all that difficult to slip past the fighters, and I found myself throwing in a few extra loops, rolls, and zigzags here and there. _For practice,_ I told myself. _Not because I'm showing off or anything._

I could feel the resistance of the atmosphere through the control yoke and focused a bit more on what I was doing. I slowed down just a touch for the approach, coming in a good bit faster than was necessary – or safe – but why not? At the last minute I pulled back and shifted from sublights to repulsors, touching down as gently as that little white feather that bookends _Forrest Gump._

For a moment I just sat there, beaming broadly. I'd done it. I'd successfully made my very first journey as a pilot of my very own starship. I reached down and lovingly ran my fingers over the controls and readouts on the dash. _Okay, technically you might still actually belong to Rogun, but I don't care. You're my girl, now, and I'm going to take good care of you,_ I thought silently to my XS. _I am going to get that horrible, horrible man to stick with me while I go running around Mantell doing whatever it is they have me do, so he won't be able to get his filthy mitts on you. And you _know_ how much I must love you to put up with having him around._

I unlatched the safety harness and stood, stretching my legs before heading through the ship to the airlock, and then down the ramp. Fresh air was nice, actually, though I could smell traces of smoke and something else on the breeze. At first I thought it was from the fighting, but then I remembered the idiot seps and the crazy location of their super-secret hideout: under the damned volcano.

With a grin I shook my head and made my way toward the warehouse. Someone was headed out toward me, and even without the unmistakable tattoos, I would've recognized him instantly.

Skavak.

I am quite confident that there is no one else in the entire TOR game world who is as universally loathed as the so-called 'Jackal of the Stars.' I'd expand it to the Star Wars universe as a whole, but as much as everyone despises Skavak, I think we can all agree that Jar Jar Binks is even worse. Skavak, at least, is someone you're _supposed_ to hate.

And believe me, we do.

"Those were some pretty impressive maneuvers, Captain," said Skavak, his brows lifted in approval. "Don't think there's a single mark on that ship of yours."

_That's right, you mongrel, she's MINE. So you can just get rid of the ideas that I darn well know you have._ I smirked, putting one hand on my hip. "That's why I get paid lots and lots of credits," I retorted. "Cause I'm just that damned good."

He looked me up and down kind of speculatively and I was a little annoyed with myself when I realized I didn't mind one little bit. _Besides, if he _is_ interested, so much the better. It'll make it that much easier to keep him around me and away from my ship._

"Well then, let's get you loaded up and on your way," he said, heading over toward a stack of crates. "Things have been getting worse rather than better around here lately, despite the Republic's involvement." There were a series of explosions nearby, and he looked over toward the door with a frown. "And it sounds like the fighting's getting closer."

I stepped over beside him. "In that case, can I lend a hand? From what you're saying, it seems like it'd be a good idea to get moving as quickly as I can."

He looked up again, and a slow, devilish smile pulled at his mouth and sent a sparkle into his gaze. "Aw, c'mon, Captain," he said with a chuckle. "How'm I supposed to impress a talented woman like yourself if you won't let me play the big strong man and load up these crates for you?" His tone was the perfect mixture of self-deprecating wry humor, and even knowing exactly why he was pouring on the charm, I was impressed. He had quite a knack.

I had to find some way to keep him off my ship – or some way to make sure that at least I was with him every time he so much as set one foot up the ramp. Fortunately, just then, the story intervened.

"Skavak!" shouted another voice I recognized immediately. A moment later, the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Corso Riggs came barreling into the warehouse. "We got a big problem." Though he'd been running at top speed, he didn't seem more than moderately winded. "Damn seps took over the local air defense cannon."

Skavak frowned, shaking his head. "Woah, hey, slow down there, kid. What're you talking about?"

Corso's jaw flexed as he tried to keep his cool. "They sliced into the cannon's targeting computer remotely. Cowards wouldn't even show their faces, accourse," he grumbled angrily. "But they just took out an incoming Republic transport. Absolutely destroyed it," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.

As he listened, Skavak frowned even more deeply, and he motioned for me to come over toward them. "That's bad news for you, Captain," he said. "It won't be safe for you to leave until that defense cannon is back in the hands of the Republic – those separatists will blast anything coming or going."

"So what's the big deal?" I asked, slipping my thumbs into the pockets of my trousers and shifting my weight to one side. "I dodged plenty of sep fire comin' in. I can just as well dodge it on the way out."

Corso stepped forward, jabbing a finger at me. "Uh-uh. No way. I saw your fancy flyin' on the way in, and you're real good, but that was against a buncha jury-rigged sep guns. An honest-to-goodness Republic cannon has all kinds of tricks, an' I don't much like the idea of watchin' you get blasted out of the sky."

A slow smile pulled at Skavak's lips. "Be an awful shame to see a pretty lady like you get vaped," he added, his voice deepening.

_And there's my cue_. I took a step toward him, allowing my gaze to drift to the arrogant curl of his mouth, linger there for a moment, before lifting again to his hard blue eyes. "Bet you say that to all the girls, Mr. Skavak."

He didn't make the slightest effort to hide the once-over he gave my figure, and then he casually replied, "Aren't too many of 'em who have your kind of style, Captain. And it's just Skavak, by the way."

"Oh? Intriguing. I like a bit of mystery." Hopefully I was coming across as coy rather than clumsy. But then, a womanizer like Skavak probably didn't really care much about my personality anyway. Abruptly, as though suddenly remembering, I cleared my throat and stepped back. _Bit of a challenge here. Don't want to be obvious_. "So, uh, what's this about remote-control cannons?" I asked, turning to Corso.

Naturally, he didn't look any too happy about the situation. "You'll need to take out their tech stations – they're probably using several so that they can bounce the signal back and forth, else the Republic troops could triangulate 'em an' jam the code."

I wanted to apologize, but it would ruin my play. "I… I don't mind helping out, but it's sure to be dangerous, and I don't know my way around here," I said, looking at Skavak hopefully.

"Yeah, well, you can take the kid along," he said, fumbling a bit. "I mean, I've gotta load up these blasters for ya."

"He could do that!" I replied, turning to smile brightly at Corso. "Wouldn't you? … uh … what did you say your name was?"

"Corso Riggs, ma'am," he replied through clenched teeth.

I turned back to Skavak, licking my lips _just_ a touch. "I just – I don't know where I'd be going, and I'd hate to find myself lost, or – or trapped in some back alley somewhere all by myself." I took another small step toward him. "I'd just feel _ever_ so much better if … if I had someone with me." I smiled again, slowly, lips parted. "Someone who would take care of me," I breathed. I knew I was definitely stepping into 'blatantly obvious' territory here, but I was gambling that (a) Skavak wouldn't be able to miss the innuendo, and (b) he was apparently used to having women throw themselves at him.

Help came from an unexpected direction. "Yeah, Skavak," came Corso's voice, sounding thoroughly disgusted. "I'll load the blasters. You go _take care of the lady_. Since you're so good at that."

"All right then," Skavak replied, his grin promising all sorts of things I didn't really want to think about. This was Disney, so it wasn't likely to get any more suggestive than a fade-to-black, right? "C'mon, babe."

Somehow I managed to avoid punching him in the teeth as we headed out of the warehouse.


End file.
